((Bingo))

Is it any different? It is still compromised of individual people. The same thoughts and ideas of combat are prevalent because of the individual There is no difference because it is still beings fighting beings. They will die, and others will live.

"Will you lead, or shall we?" Udyr looked about, sniffing at the air.

Udyr snorted and rolled his eyes, "And we would tell you why? Your interests do not interest us. Why would we tell you of a threat? We are not a watchdog."

The beastman leaned forward and growled at Lux, "You Demacians seem very self entitled. Are we incorrect?"

...Sissy skirt man?

"Self entitled?" Lux asked. "I'm just trying to protect innocent lives! I'd help you if I could. Why are you so hostile all of a sudden?"

"Very well then. Another question, what is your opinion on those who use weapons other than their hands?"

"Innocence is a euphemism for stupid," Udyr grunted. "Call it by its actual term. We are also not being hostile. If we were, you would be dead. We do not kill for your benefit or for Demacia's. If you want to kill these beasts, go kill them."

The beast man's eyes narrowed, "Unless you cannot do such work with your bare hands."

Most people use weapons as a crutch for their own lack of skill. For the vast majority of people, those who use a weapon as a crutch, those who do not deserve such strength, deserve a swift death.

Our hands are weapons, but they are an extension of our will. So long as a weapon is the extension of one's soul, one's will, then it is not a crutch. We say weapons are for the weak in the sense of how most perceive what a weapon is: a crutch.

So long as it is not a crutch, then a weapon is nothing more than the extension of one's will.

Pantheon nodded in response, and then spoke once more.

"One final question, what is your opinion of me?"

"...do you have something against me being a mage?" Lux asked.

Your title, though a little haughty, is an apt one, Artisan of War.

"No." Udyr's eyes tightened, and he pointed at the locations of her body as he spoke of them. "We do not hold anything against you for being a mage. Magic is a part of one's being. We were being figurative, though now that we look...You lack physical strength. Your arms are akin to noodles, your chest is far too small, your hands are soft, your thighs are a little too thick and while they do match your calves you could tone them better, and your core muscles seem to be lacking. We would safely say that if you and a large dog, perhaps a mastiff, were to fight with only tooth and nail, you would lose horribly."

Udyr scratched his beard, "It is strange, why do mages think magic is the solution to everything? What if you are incapable of performing magic? Then how would you defend yourself? You would be dead in less than a second."

Lucy tilts her head and frowns,
"Fishy... Birdy... Mouse..."
She looks at Udyr and pouts,
"Not fun."
She then smiles happily and purs a little,
"What you play hunt?"

Warwick snarls, he isn't hauled off his feet but is thrown of balance a little, still enough for the fist to connect with crushing force, Warwick breath his smashed from his body. Two hits to the chest from Udyr taking its toll making it painful to move his arm. Growling through the pain, the claw caught in Udyr's beard clenches in a fist, Warwick grips the beard and pulls with all the strength he can muster in his winded state and brings his other claw around to try connect with Udyr's eyes attempting to blind him.

Zyra enters Udyr's residence without so much as a polite hello, seeing no need for it she simply states why she was here,
"A creature and I were speaking, it went by the name of Shala.... It seems to think you and it are friends, yet you told me friends were a weakness... Are you its friend?"